


Salt

by Kissa



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Parabatai, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Past Malec - Freeform, Platonic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissa/pseuds/Kissa
Summary: Alec was always told that in order to not be alone, he needs to find someone to fall in love with and marry. That's all well meaning advice, but does it even apply to parabatai?
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 17
Kudos: 21





	Salt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nadja_Lee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadja_Lee/gifts).



> Sure, having a husband is nice, but it's even nicer to have a friend who, if you show up to their house at 3 a.m., greets you with "let me get the shovel, I have tarp in the car already." Sometimes that friend and the husband are one and the same person. Other times, they are not.
> 
> @Nadja_Lee I did promise my first angsty fic will be in your honour, so-  
> I hope you like it. :)

Alec knows all the things people say behind Jace’s back and to his face. He’s not a threat to them, so they dare.    
  
He can feel the unspoken accusations follow him like a bullseye tacked to his back.    
  
He takes the judgment and the disdain and he folds them neatly, locking them away inside him, like swallowing an incriminating piece of paper.   
  
No one dares to say anything to Jace’s face. To ask why he chose such a lame Shadowhunter to be his parabatai when he could have had literally anyone. To mock him for caring so excessively, or so they say, for the corrupted and beyond redemption eldest Lightwood child. To accuse him of what everyone is thinking, that he let Lightwood lure him into being his parabatai with sex.    
  
In time, Alec persuades himself he is the problem. He is the weak link in the chain, the rotten apple spoiling the whole basket.    
  
He makes himself even smaller, he slinks further away in the shadows, watching over Jace protectively and taking Jace’s affection when it is given, no more, no less. No demands either.    
  
Isabelle sees all of it and tries to get her brother out of the self-flagellation loop, but it’s impossible.    
  
Alec has persuaded himself he deserves less than nothing.    
  
So, when Magnus lays eyes on him, Alec is offended. It must be nice to be able to play with people as though they were toys, from the privileged position of immortality, riches and a high profile ruling position.    
  
But Magnus is charming. Persistent. Patient.    
  
And Alec understands that someone finally wants him exactly how he is, cracked at the edges, burnt and salted.    
  
He doesn’t question how much of his love for Magnus is gratitude.    
  
He allows himself to let go of Jace. Not depend so much on his attention and love.    
  
Years pass, and the shine has worn off of their marriage. They get along, Magnus and him. They consider children.    
  
Alec is the Inquisitor now and he got reused to the dull ache in his chest, the one that sits there and mocks him while he changes the course of the Shadow World with his rulings; while Magnus makes love to him, magic surrounding them and sparkling on Alec’s skin.    


If this is happiness, Alec must have died long ago, because he doesn’t feel it. No matter how much he looks for that spark he lost along with his youth, he begins to believe it is lost forever, just like his innocence and naïveté.    
  
And what hurts the most is that no one, not even Magnus, who loves him more than life itself, no one can tell how big the void that opens inside him is. He’s always had a rain cloud above him, he’s always been sarcastic and cynical. How many people, who know him and are still alive today, have seen and heard him laugh? Fewer than he can count on the fingers of one hand. 

The old guilt and shame rear their ugly heads again. Alec remembers - if something is not going the way it should, it’s because he’s a part of the equation and whatever he touches falls prey to the curse of inevitable failure.    
  
He doesn’t feel heavier-hearted than usual when he has the conversation with Magnus.    
  
Magnus is not ready to let him go just like that; he fights, he pleads, he questions. He wants to know if he is losing Alec to someone else, or if Alec is keeping a terrible secret from him and wants to suffer alone instead of talking about it with his husband.    
  
Magnus cries when he thinks he’s realised the reason why Alec is leaving him now, of all times. He must have set himself a limit to his happiness, dreading becoming another addition to Magnus’ box of souvenirs from dead lovers.    
  
Alec assures him it is not that - after all, even mundane spouses live with the knowledge that one will die before the other, and they are no different as far as he is concerned.    
  
In the end, Magnus has to let him go. The perceptive warlock has to admit Alec is but a shell of the man he fell in love with. And while he fully embraces change - he has to, if he wants to keep his sanity as an immortal -, the way Alec has changed has turned him into a stranger from a distant past.    
  
Alec returns to New York alone, having pulled the necessary strings to hasten his transfer to his original Institute.    
  
Institute which feels like a tomb without Jace wreaking havoc and keeping everyone on their toes around there. Clary and Isabelle are co-heads and they are doing a great job, and Isabelle catches him up on the news since he left, not wasting time in commiserations, knowing her brother doesn’t roll like that.    
  
He takes a mission as soon as he is cleared for the field, and he realises soon that this is how he dies.    
  
The vampires he went to read the Clave riot act to have an alliance with demons, and the leader, a tall, androgynous vampire named Astarte, throws the New Accords out the window when they grab Alec by the neck like a ragdoll and begin to feed on him, not showing any signs of stopping until Alec’s heart stops.    
  
Alec feels himself slip into the venom trance and the first thought he has in that state is not of Magnus, or of Clary and Isabelle, or the vampire themselves.    
  
It’s Jace. He would have liked to say goodbye to his parabatai.    
  
“Hands off my parabatai, you bitch!” He hears an unmistakable voice and he opens his eyes slowly.    
  
Jace is there, killing vampires and demons all around him, one arm supporting Alec once Astarte became ashes.    
  
Alec feels pure ecstasy pour into him, and that’s how he knows he is most likely dying.    
  
Somewhere in the distance, Clary is shooting sunlight out of her hand, torching demons by the dozen, and Izzy’s electrum whip fills the air with an ominous buzzing that spells the end of the little vampire and demon love nest.    
  
Jace draws all the healing runes he can think of on Alec before carefully lifting his parabatai in his arms, resting his head on his shoulder and carrying him back to the Institute.    
  
When he wakes up from his recovery sleep, Alec gets updated on the many demons and vampires they killed, something made possible only by Astarte’s inability to control themselves and spare Alec’s life.    
  
From Isabelle, Alec hears that Clary and Jace were a thing for years, they even eloped and had a wedding somewhere in the mundane world, but they separated because Clary really wants children and Jace doesn’t and that is not something that can be compromised on without one partner being utterly miserable.    
  
After the separation, Jace bought a small island somewhere in the North, in Sweden. Since Clary taught him the portal rune, he can come and go as he pleases.    
  
The next occasion he has time off, Jace suggests Alec should come over for a visit, to catch up.    
  
Alec shows up in the afternoon, in time to see Jace emerge from the forest with a big basket of chanterelle mushrooms.    
  
The nature here is incredibly beautiful and Jace hasn’t altered it much, although his house has solar panels, running water and internet.   
  
The house is small but clean and painted in bright colours with lots of white.   
  
The moment Jace sees him approaching and he comes running to Alec with open arms, Alec feels his heart dust itself off and try again.   
  
In Jace’s arms, it finally hits him and he sobs uncontrollably, aware of Jace’s soothing caresses on his back. Their foreheads touch and Jace runs his hands through Alec’s hair.    
  
“I was so stupid. I didn’t think…” Alec says. 

It’s too late for dancing around it and not calling it by name. 

“You felt it too.” Jace confirms. “It felt like being at a banquet where none of the dishes have salt. It took me years to realise, because of what I thought to be true.”    
  
“Same. Well, I’m here now. And I’m not disappearing off again.” Alec says, tears still running down his face, but he is smiling now.    
  
In his earliest years, he used to think what he felt for Jace was desire.    
  
But their bond is heavenly in nature, and the love it instilled in them is the same. It makes them want to bask in each other’s closeness without their bodies feeling the urgency of it. It’s such a heightened state, the sort that Christian saints wrote about while documenting angel apparitions and transcribing visions.   
  
Their bond screamed for them to come together again.

Jace just hands Alec a small knife and shows him a log he can sit on so they can clean mushrooms for an outdoor stew, cooked over a real log fire.    
  
And just like that, Alec is alive again.   
  
(the end)   



End file.
